


Like Ghosts Among the Stars

by Nebula5030



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: (Briefly - Merlin is living in one at the beginning but it doesn't go in depth), ALL ABOARD THE ANGST TRAIN TOOT TOOT, Also you'll never guess the author loves space /sarcasm, Angst, Established Relationship, I cried while writing this, Immortal Merlin (Merlin), Lancelot as the Angel of Death, Loneliness, M/M, Mental Hospitals, Peaceful Death, Post-Canon, They're In Love Your Honor, past character deaths, peaceful ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:08:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24267946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nebula5030/pseuds/Nebula5030
Summary: “It’s been a long time, my love.”Merlin smiled bleakly at the sudden voice.  Perhaps the moment had arrived, and hewasfinally going mad.But...even if he was...it’d be nice to see him again.He turned to the voice.“Hello, Lancelot.”After thousands upon thousands of years of waiting, Lancelot takes Merlin home.
Relationships: Lancelot/Merlin (Merlin)
Comments: 41
Kudos: 166
Collections: Merlin Rarepair Hub





	Like Ghosts Among the Stars

**Author's Note:**

> With special thanks to [_Butterfly's Repose_ by Avacado_Here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23901088)  
> I’d had this vague idea for a while, but reading that fic brought it back to the forefront and solidified it lol

A warm spring breeze drifted through the open window, gently moving the sheer curtains that hung over it. It was quiet and peaceful, with only the occasional figure passing by the door and glancing into the care facility’s nearly empty library.

And it would have been entirely empty, save for the single figure seated at the round table, staring through the window at the trees and sky beyond, and listening to the birds and the wind.

He was often found there like that: simply sitting and staring through the window, not speaking with anyone. When night would fall, he would stay there and watch the stars until a nurse came and escorted him back to his room, leaving with a gentle request for him to get some rest. But then, before dawn even arrived, he would be back there in the library. Just watching.

And waiting.

The nurses knew him as the one with one name, Merlin; the man that they brought in one day after someone reported seeing him sit and stare out at a lake for days on end – not drinking, not eating, not moving at all.

When they had asked him who he was and what he was doing, he had only sighed – his first movement in days –, before meeting their eyes with ones that had seen and known too much, and were filled with experience that no-one had had before.

“My name is Merlin. And I’m waiting for my friend.”

Yet he’d put up no argument when they took him to the care home, and had gone along quietly and without complaint. They gave him some food and a change of clothes, before saying that they would try to find someone who knew him and would be glad to see him – perhaps the friend he said he was waiting for.

But at that, Merlin had only smiled sadly, and said that he’d been waiting for a long time, and that there wasn’t anyone else. Not anymore.

He’d been alone for years now, and had no idea for how much longer he would be.

It’d even been so long that his name brought no recognition. As time had passed, so too had the language and the stories, until only historians and Merlin himself knew that specific name.

In one small way, Merlin was almost glad for that.

It was nice to be able to use his real name once more, after millennia of going by others.

He’d visited every corner of the globe – several times. He’d spent lifetimes in solitude without seeing another human at all, and others as a celebrity and meeting millions of people. He’d learned every language that was spoken and others that had long been lost to time, studied countless subjects, created numerous works and books and songs. He’d even done what he once had thought impossible, and had walked on the surface of other planets and moons before returning to Earth once more.

What was left for him to do now except...wait?

Just like he had been doing for thousands of years now?

He supposed he could have left the facility behind – advanced technology or no, he was still the most powerful sorcerer to have ever walked the Earth – but what would be the point? What difference would it make, waiting in here versus waiting in the outside world?

Here, no one cared if he happened to sit and stare out the window for hours on end. Here, there weren’t any tasks that needed doing that he couldn’t will himself to complete.

Here, he was taken care of, and all he had to do was exist.

Not that he could stop doing that if he tried.

And sometimes, he wondered how long it would be until it became too much – when that moment would come when he’d finally break, and he would lose his mind to what no human should have ever endured.

How much longer would he have to wait?

“It’s been a long time, my love.”

Merlin smiled bleakly at the sudden voice. Perhaps the moment had arrived, and he _was_ finally going mad.

But...even if he was...it’d be nice to see him again.

Though Merlin had lost innumerable faces and voices to time, there had been one that he had held onto for everything he was worth; one that his mind returned to during both moments of peace and grief, and during times when Merlin found himself alone with his thoughts and regrets.

A face that marked the last time Merlin remembered being truly happy.

He turned to the voice.

“Hello, Lancelot.”

Over at one of the other windows of the library, sitting on the window seat in front of it, was Lancelot. He was dressed in his chainmail and scarlet cloak, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped together.

He smiled faintly. “Hello, Merlin.”

Merlin looked Lancelot over for a moment, memories long thought lost coming back to the surface. Laughter, late night talks, a feeling of safety he had nowhere else, loving notes and flowers.

Kisses that left his heart light and his laughter completely breathless, and mornings of waking to warmth and brown eyes he could never tire of.

“It’s good to see you,” Merlin said quietly.

Lancelot let out a small breath that was almost a chuckle. “It’s good to see you, too. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

“What are you doing here?”

Lancelot smiled bleakly, before standing. He crossed the space between them and knelt before Merlin, putting his hands onto Merlin’s where they rested on his lap.

Merlin wasn’t sure if he was surprised or not that he could feel the touch.

Lancelot met his eyes. “I’m here to take you home.”

Merlin only stared at him. “Where’s that?” he asked tiredly. “Camelot’s been gone for millennia. There’s nothing left there.”

Lancelot’s smile turned sad, and he lifted a hand to Merlin’s cheek. And even though it must have been an illusion, a figment of his own mind, Merlin tipped his head towards the hand with a shaking breath. “Well maybe I’m not taking you to Camelot,” Lancelot said, “Home is...where those you care about are. You’ve been waiting for a long time, Merlin. And...They’ve decided it’s time to finally let you come home. You’re not a god, Merlin. You were never meant to spend all this time here. It’s time for me to take you home.”

Merlin only continued to stare at him. But...there was no one left. They – all of them, every last one – had passed into the beyond. How could he be taken to where everyone he cared about was, if that was the one place he was never allowed to go? “I don’t understand.”

Lancelot stared at Merlin, before he let out a low sigh. He stood and held out his hand. “Come with me,” he said. “Let’s go for a walk.”

Merlin stared at the outstretched hand for a moment.

He took it.

Lancelot led him through the facility’s hallways, the two of the passing nurses, doctors, medical androids, serving bots, and other patients alike, but none of them even glanced at the two of them. In fact, no one seemed to notice them, as if a knight and a patient making their way to the front entrance were an everyday occurrence.

They made it out of the facility without notice, Merlin’s brow furling a bit when no one tried to stop him, but with a low breath he simply turned back to Lancelot as the two of them went down the stone steps and entered the bustle of the city’s center.

For a moment as they walked along the busy streets, Merlin considered the sight in front of him: Lancelot, dressed in full knight regalia straight from thousands of years ago, complete with his cape, chainmail, and sword, walking among towering building of glass and technology and beings that he could never even have begun to imagine.

A small smile of amusement came to Merlin’s face.

His grip tightened on Lancelot’s hand.

To Merlin’s surprise, Lancelot seemed to have somewhere in mind for them to go, and before he knew it, he found themselves in the forest beyond the city – the sounds of cars and hovercrafts and people fading into the background, until all he could hear was birdsong and the rustle of trees as they moved and danced in the breeze. And all he could see was the green of the forest, and Lancelot in front of him, still holding Merlin’s hand tight.

And for a moment – just a moment – Merlin felt like he was back there. Back with Lancelot during their many walks in the woods outside of the citadel when they had a break from their duties. Just the two of them surrounded by the wild magic and life that the forest held, only concerned with each other and their time together. And then they would return after a couple hours to find Gwaine running madly from whichever knight he had pulled a prank on that day, Gwen easily taking them aside for a chat, Arthur loudly wondering where Merlin had been and only accepting Merlin’s answer when Lancelot corroborated, Gaius with another task for Merlin to do, Percival and Elyan idly chatting amongst themselves and perhaps planning a revenge prank on Gwaine, and Leon helping to train those who would become the next knights of Camelot.

For a moment, they were all alive again, and no time had passed since then.

But the moment passed, and an empty feeling came to Merlin’s chest and the faint smile fell from his face.

It’d been thousands of years since he’d even _remembered_ those days so vividly.

Those days were long gone, never to return.

And the Lancelot in front of him was conjured from his mind, nothing more.

Merlin looked away.

But he didn’t let go of Lancelot’s hand, still following as the two of them traveled deeper and deeper into the woods.

Eventually, Lancelot stopped.

“I think this looks like a good spot,” he said, turning to give Merlin a gentle smile.

Indeed it was: a small clearing, complete with flowers around the edges, and a small bubbling brook running through it.

A blooming hawthorn tree was at one side, and Lancelot guided Merlin over to it, before gesturing to the flat ground in front of it with that same gentle smile.

Merlin sat at the base of the hawthorn, knees tucked to his chest and his arms around them, with Lancelot taking the spot next to him with a small breath out. They watched the stream as it sparkled in the sunlight, and listened to the sounds of the forest around them.

Merlin didn’t speak, simply staring ahead and not daring to break the silence between them. What was there to say? What _could_ he say?

And, oddly enough, Merlin was afraid to look. He was afraid that the moment he turned to say something, or the moment he asked a question and waited for an answer, Lancelot would be gone. That the moment he allowed himself to treat him as something other than a figment of his imagination, would be the same moment when the illusion would shatter, and he’d be left alone.

“Merlin.”

Merlin turned to look.

Lancelot looked him over, brow slightly pinched, before he sighed. “You don’t have to talk. Not if you don’t want to. Let’s just...sit. Would you like that?”

Merlin blinked.

But then he smiled. “I would.”

And so they did.

They sat and watched the animals of the forest go about their day, paying no mind to who was watching them. They watched as the plants swayed in the gentle breeze, and took their time to smell the sweet scent of spring. They sat and watched the sky as it turned from blue to pink to orange, and as the stars began to come out into the growing dark, illuminating the world around them.

And though that fear didn’t go away – that fear that Merlin would turn to the side, and find Lancelot gone once more – Lancelot stayed through it all, sitting with Merlin in silence, just the two of them taking in the world that was so different, yet almost exactly to the same to the one they had known all those years before.

Merlin looked up at the stars, thousands upon thousands of years of doing so filling his mind. Millions of nights where he simply sat and thought.

And remembered.

And waited.

And here, away from the light of the city, he could see them just as clearly as he could then.

“I’ve always loved the stars,” he said quietly, his eyes tracing the Milky Way above them and finally breaking the silence. “I’ve loved them for as long as I can remember. They did change over the last few thousand years...but I could ignore that if I wanted to. And I could pretend that...no time had passed. That I was still back there with you, or with my mother as she told me stories about the shapes they made.”

Lancelot said nothing, only looking Merlin over with soft eyes.

Merlin took in a shaking breath. “And...they never fail to remind me that no matter what happened...out there somewhere all of us _were_ together again. That those years really had happened. That out there, someone might be looking towards Earth, and if they looked close enough, they would see us. They would see Camelot, and they would see all of us, laughing at...maybe a story Gwaine had just told, or one of Elyan’s jokes. And...in a way, it helped me feel like you were never really gone.”

Lancelot’s eyes saddened. “...like we were simply ghosts among the stars,” he murmured.

Merlin let out a watery laugh. “Yeah,” he said, dropping his gaze. “Like ghosts among the stars.”

Merlin let out a sigh and tipped his head back against the tree. He shut his eyes. “I’m just so _tired,_ Lancelot,” he said. “I’ve been so alone for so long I...I barely remember what it was like to not feel this way. Sometimes I forget there was a time I _didn’t.”_

Merlin swallowed, and, hesitantly, he reached to the side.

His hand found Lancelot’s and gripped it tight.

“Lancelot?”

“Yes, my love?”

Merlin swallowed. He took in a shaking breath as his eyes welled. “Before you go,” he turned his head then, finally daring to look right at him, “Can I kiss you one last time?”

Lancelot’s gaze softened, but without a word he shifted so he was facing Merlin and lifted his hand to Merlin’s cheek.

And it was easy, _so_ easy to let him guide their lips together.

It was just like it had been Then. Merlin’s worries melting away as he only focused on Lancelot’s touch – on the feeling of them together, their lips moving together. They shifted, Lancelot wrapping his arms around Merlin’s waist to hold him close, and Merlin placing his own arms to Lancelot’s shoulders.

It felt just like he remembered. And as much as he wanted to – to have _this_ become his new eternity instead of what had been – it couldn’t last forever.

With a low breath, Merlin moved back. His eyes flicked between Lancelot’s for a moment – willing the moment to his memory, and remembering all the times it had happened before.

Then his throat caught, and Merlin took in a gasp.

He dropped his forehead to Lancelot’s shoulder, hanging tight to him for all he was worth.

“I miss you so much,” he whispered, eyes burning. “I miss you so much I’m drowning in it – but I’ve been drowning for so long I’ve forgotten what it means to breathe.”

He took in a shaking breath then, and his grip tightened.

“I can’t help but feel that in a few moments, you’re going to disappear, or I’m going to wake up and find out all of this was just a dream. And that you never were here. I’m not ready. I’m not ready to be left alone again. I’m not. Please don’t leave me. Please don’t -”

“Merlin.”

Merlin swallowed, and he raised his eyes once more.

Lancelot’s gaze was soft. And with a gentle smile, he lifted his hand to Merlin’s cheek once more.

“You’re not dreaming. And I’m not going to disappear.” His smile widened then, true and honest. “I told you: I’m taking you home.”

Merlin blinked again, that confusion from earlier returning at that same phrase Lancelot had used when he had first arrived hours ago. “What-?”

Lancelot looked to the side – to the center of the clearing.

Merlin did too.

He took in a short gasp.

It seemed as if the stars themselves were coming down – coming down and floating as little specks and filling the clearing around the two of them. The grass seemed to be glowing below them, and

It was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.

Lancelot stood, he himself now taking on a golden glow, and he turned to Merlin.

He held his hand out.

And from behind him, a stronger light was appearing. And growing.

Merlin looked around at the specks of light, his eyes becoming wide in awe. He turned back to Lancelot, an odd sense of unease, yet... _excitement_ overcoming him. “Lancelot?”

Lancelot only smiled again. “You helped me find my peace, it’s time for me to help you find yours.”

Merlin blinked in confusion, before reaching up to take Lancelot’s hand as a single breathless and disbelieving laugh came out of him.

Lancelot pulled Merlin to a stand with a smile, before he turned to look at the light behind him.

Merlin looked as well.

The light washed over him, and Merlin felt a sense of calm fill him to his very core. A sense of _peace,_ of _rightness._

He felt _warm._

“I had to fight Gwaine to let me be the one to get you,” Lancelot then said with a chuckle. “He finally relented on the condition that I make sure to tell you to give him a nice long hug once you arrive.”

Merlin looked to him, eyes still wide in disbelief and awe. He let out a breathless laugh, before turning back to the light.

There were blurs beginning to emerge.

He stepped closer, and they became clearer.

He couldn’t keep in his gasp – and already he could feel tears welling in his eyes at the figures he saw waiting there, so many faces he had known and loved and had begun to believe he would never, ever see again.

And yet there they were – _all_ of them.

“Gwen? Arthur? _Mother?”_

He ran forward into their waiting arms with a laugh, his hand still in Lancelot’s, and his heart light for the first time since Then.

There was a flash of starlight.

Then the clearing was empty, and the stars returned to their place in the sky, looking down upon a world that now had one less soul in it.

But for the first time in thousands of years, Merlin knew what it meant to breathe again.

And he finally found his peace, with his friends among the stars.


End file.
